


Recite My Regrets

by the_obiwan_for_me



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bo-Katan has many regrets, Darksaber, Death Watch (Star Wars), Gen, Night owls, Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Star Wars Rebels: Heroes of Mandalore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_obiwan_for_me/pseuds/the_obiwan_for_me
Summary: Claiming the Darksaber forces Bo-Katan to face her many mistakes, and how they all tie back to the ancient weapon.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Recite My Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation had recently about how Bo-Katan must blame herself for everything that has happened to Mandalore.

It was heavy.

She remembered that it was heavy.

It seemed heavier now. 

She didn't want it. She  _ really  _ didn't want it. 

It wasn't the responsibility she didn't want, though she doubted her ability to lead like her people needed her to lead. She'd failed them once. Hell, she'd failed them many, many times. Just the last time had been more public. More obviously  _ her  _ failings. 

No. She  _ wanted _ to do her duty. Make amends to her people. 

But she did not want this damn sword.

Every time Sabine had ignited the eerie black blade over the last few days, it had screamed at her, shouting all the memories that lay within it. Every mistake, every misstep, every bridge she had burned.

It was sacred.

She hated it.

Now Sabine had pressed it into her hand. Asked her to lead. Placed her youthful hope on Bo-Katan's shoulders. If this kind hearted girl only knew.

With the hilt in her hand, even with the ancient blade disengaged, it recited to her each and every one of her regrets.

_ You left your sister for Death Watch and stood by a murderous man.  _

She'd been young, impressionable. And hurt. So hurt. By the time she'd realized her mistake, she'd thought she was in too deep. She'd never be able to right her course. What else could she have done? Had she left, Pre would have hunted her and cut her down with the very blade she now clutched so reluctantly.

_ You backed down like a coward when he allied Death Watch with the Sith. _

She  _ had  _ tried, so many times, to talk Pre out of that doomed deal. Her gut had screamed at her from the moment they found those horned monsters, adrift in deep space. She'd wanted to kill them then, had said as much, but Pre, cocky to a fault, ignored her. And he ignored her time and time again. But she should have been louder. She should have taken that beast of a man by the shoulders and shaken sense back into his thick skull. How could a man so tactically brilliant be so naive? She should have tried harder. She should have yelled louder.

_ You let your sister get captured twice. No! Three times! You could have saved her three times over. _

Bo's stomach clenched. The first time she'd all but put her in the cell herself. The second time  _ she _ should have stayed with her while she tried to get her call for help out, not Korkie. He was a good kid, but ill prepared. Satine needed protection from someone with actual experience. And the third time...the third time had been a series of horrifyingly bad decisions on Bo's part. She squeezed her eyes shut as the memories assaulted her.

_ You let me take Pre's life!  _

She had  _ tried  _ to step in, but was stopped by another commando. Damn Mando'ade and their damn dogged devotion to their violent and foolish traditions. She should have pulled her blasters and shot that beast down the moment Pre began to falter. But she didn't, and her world had shattered moments later, when he'd crumpled into pieces. They're relationship was not a healthy one, but he was her constant. Yet she'd done nothing to save him. Beyond whatever mutual feelings they had shared, she had worked for years, risked so much, given up so much, for that damn man to gain the power he craved. He'd held it for, what? A night? A day? And then he was gone. 

_ And then there is your sister…. _

She should have done things differently. Why didn't she help Kenobi sooner? Why didn't she aid him in pulling Satine from her cell a second time? Why didn't she send her Night Owls in when his derelict ship started to go down? Why did she allow him and her sister to be swept away, back to the throne room? Why didn't she act faster? Move in quicker? Storm the throne room immediately? No. She'd waited. And waited. And waited so long that she rescued just the Jedi, and that, just barely.

_ All of your mistakes. All of your regrets. They are tied to me. And now you want to make another one?  _

It was heavy.

She remembered that it was heavy.

It  _ was  _ heavier now. Heavy with the weight of her sister's soul. Heavy with the soul of the man she had given everything to for his lust of power. Heavy with the soul of Mandalore itself, and all it had been through because of all those mistakes she had made.

She didn't want it. She  _ really  _ didn't want it.

But the clans put their faith in her. The Protectors stood by her. Ursa trusted her family to her.

It was sacred.

She hated it.

Maybe having her mistakes retold to her every time she hefted the heavy thing to rally her people was what she needed. So she would never forget. Never retrace those steps. Never make those same, awful mistakes twice. Maybe that's what she needed.

She hoped that's what she needed.

She ignited the blade.

"I accept this sword for my sister. For my clan. And for all of Mandalore."

The blade sang to her. 

_ Hope you don't live to regret this, too. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was having trouble sleeping. And then this overtook me. I literally wrote it on my phone while lying in bed. Surprise!
> 
> ...maybe now I'll go to sleep, now that this is out of my brain.


End file.
